MidReal Story
Imaginary Love: When Dreams Come True
Scenario: Mason Greene, a seventeen year old boy who creates the perfect dream girl for him. She’s about his age, perfect tan skin, brownish wavy hair that goes just past her shoulders, and she’s of Latina descent. He names her Scarlett, after the actress Scarlett Johansson. And one day, she becomes real, but only to him. No one else can see her as she is nothing more than a creation of his imagination. Only Mason can see, hear, and feel her.
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I was seventeen when I met the girl of my dreams.
She was perfect in every way, and she loved me more than anything.
We were inseparable, and I knew that we would be together forever.
I’d never been happier in my life.
The only problem?
She wasn’t real.
I’d made her up in my head, but I loved her just the same.
And she loved me back, or at least that’s what I told myself.
It all started one night when I was feeling particularly lonely.
My dad had passed out on the couch after drinking too much whiskey, and I was left to fend for myself for dinner.
I’d gotten used to it over the years, but that didn’t make it any less depressing.
I’d just finished eating a bowl of cereal when I heard a knock at the door.
I got up from the table and went to answer it, wondering who could possibly be calling at this time of night.
When I opened the door, there was no one there.
“Hi, I’m Scarlett,” the girl said.
I spun around to see a beautiful girl standing in my living room.
She had long brown hair and big brown eyes, and she was smiling at me like we were old friends.
“Who are you?”
I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
“I already told you, silly,” she said, still smiling.
“I’m Scarlett.
And I’m your girlfriend.”
That was how it all started.
From that day on, Scarlett was my constant companion.
We did everything together.
We watched movies, went for walks in the park, and held hands as we watched the sun set over the mountains.
We talked for hours about everything and nothing, and we laughed at all of the same jokes.
She was perfect in every way, and I loved her more than anything.
Even though I knew she wasn’t real, it didn’t matter to me.
Scarlett was always there for me when I needed her.
When my dad got drunk and yelled at me for something that wasn’t my fault, she was there to cheer me up and make me feel better.
When I got a bad grade on a test at school, she was there to help me study so it wouldn’t happen again.
And when I finally got the courage to ask out the girl I’d been crushing on, only to have her reject me in front of everyone, Scarlett was there to wipe away my tears and tell me that I deserved someone better.
She was perfect, and I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like without her.
But as time went on, I started to wonder if maybe I’d gone too far.
I knew that Scarlett wasn’t real, but sometimes it felt like she was.
We were so close that it was hard to believe she was just a figment of my imagination.
I’d always been imaginative, but this was something else entirely.
I’d created an entire world with Scarlett, complete with inside jokes and memories that we’d shared together.
It wasn’t like playing with an imaginary friend when I was a little kid.
This was something more…something deeper than that.
And sometimes it scared me how real it all felt.
But at the end of the day, Scarlett made me happy.
And isn’t that what mattered most?
As long as we were together, nothing else seemed to matter.
I’d never been in love before, but when I looked at Scarlett, I knew that this was what it felt like.
She loved me more than anything in the world, and she would do anything for me.
How could I not love her back?
Scarlett was everything to me.
But for me, it was the night Scarlett knocked on my door and introduced herself as my girlfriend.
She was the love of my life.
I realized that my dad could never come between us.
That we would be together forever.
We were soulmates.
I liked her from the moment we met.
I’ll admit it—I was smitten right from the start.
It wasn’t just because she was beautiful and funny and kind.
Oh sure, that had something to do with it.
But it was more than that.
We just clicked in a way that I’d never experienced before.
It wasn’t just that we liked each other.
We were made for each other.
I could tell from the very beginning that we were meant to be.
I still remember the first time we really talked.
It was the week after we met.
We’d been hanging out and watching TV when she turned to me and asked what I thought about the show.
I told her that it was okay, but it wasn’t my favorite.
We spent the next hour talking about our favorite TV shows and movies.
Just like that, we were having a conversation as if we’d known each other for years.
But that was the thing about Scarlett—we just got each other.
She knew exactly what to say to make me laugh when I was feeling down, and she always knew how to cheer me up when I was in a bad mood.
And even though she had every reason to be frustrated with me at times—as much as I tried to be funny and charming all the time, that wasn’t always possible—she never was.
She understood that everyone has their bad days and their flaws and that nobody is perfect.
And even though she didn’t have any flaws herself—she was pretty much perfect in every way—it didn’t bother her that I did.
She accepted me for who I was, warts and all, and that meant more to me than words could ever express.
And it wasn’t just that we got along so well either.
Scarlett made me want to be a better person.
When we met, things at home were pretty rough; my dad was drinking more than usual and he’d started taking his anger out on me.
I was at a pretty low point in my life.
But Scarlett was always there to cheer me up and remind me of everything I had going for me.
She told me that I was smart and talented and that I could do anything I set my mind to.
And even though I didn’t always believe her at first—how could someone as amazing as her actually think all of those things about me?—she never stopped telling me how great I was.
Scarlett was my biggest fan.
And because of her unwavering support, I was able to turn things around at home.
I managed to get my dad the help he needed for his drinking problem, and we both started going to therapy to work through our issues.
Things weren’t perfect by any means—there were still plenty of rough patches along the way—but they were definitely getting better.
And Scarlett was there with me every step of the way.
She was my guiding light through some of the darkest times in my life.
And for that, I’ll be eternally grateful.
She helped me become the person I am today.
The person my dad raised me to be.
But none of them had ever made me feel the way Scarlett did.
But none of them had ever made me feel the way Scarlett did.
For as long as I could remember, I had always been a daydreamer.
I’d known her for less than a year, but it felt like we’d been together our whole lives.
Ever since I was a little kid, I had always preferred living in my own world rather than the real world where things were boring and disappointing and never quite lived up to my expectations or desires or dreams.
Or that we would be together for the rest of eternity.
It was so much easier for me to imagine things being perfect than it was for me to accept that they weren’t perfect at all and that they probably never would be again.
Scarlett wasn’t just some figment of my imagination.
She was real.
But my imagination hadn’t truly come into its own until I met Scarlett last fall, and ever since then, I had found myself imagining her sitting next to me no matter where I was or what I was doing or who I was with.
She was always there beside me, holding my hand or kissing me on the cheek or whispering sweet nothings in my ear or laughing at one of my stupid jokes or saying something so profound that it made me break down in tears or jump for joy or scream out loud.
As real as anyone I had ever known.
As real as the chair across from me in the school library that sat empty except for a stack of books someone had left there yesterday.
I could practically feel her heat next to me as we sat in math class together, trying to figure out how to solve some crazy calculus equation that made absolutely no sense to me.
She reached over and took my hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
As real as the people sitting at the tables around me that I could barely see through the fog of my own thoughts.
“You’re doing great, Mason,” she said with a smile.
I could practically feel Scarlett’s heat next to me as I sat there reading through the pages of my calculus textbook.
I reached out and took her hand in mine and squeezed it tight.
“I know this stuff is hard, but you’re really smart, and I know you can do it.”
I chuckled and shook my head.
“Not too tight,” she said with a chuckle.
“I don’t know…”
“I need that hand to hold up my end of the bargain while we work on this problem.”
I laughed and squeezed her hand again.
The corners of her lips turned up into a half smile, half smirk, as she looked at me with those eyes that held galaxies within them.
“Trust me,” she said with a wink.
“I know you’re the brains of this operation,” I said.
“I’m just here to make you look good.”
I nodded and took a deep breath and tried to focus on the problem in front of me, but it was no use.
All I could think about was Scarlett.
“And I appreciate that,” she said.
“You’re such a wonderful boyfriend.”
I closed my eyes and pictured her sitting next to me, smiling at me, her cheeks flushed like roses, her eyes filled with galaxies.
I could almost feel her heat next to me, her hand in mine, her breath on my cheek, her lips on mine.
I opened my mouth to say something in response but stopped myself when I realized what I was about to say.
I could almost hear her voice in my ear, her laughter in my soul, her love in my heart.
We weren’t just boyfriend and girlfriend.
We were much more than that.
“I know you can do it, Mason,” she said, her voice smooth and even like honey on the tip of a knife.
“I believe in you.”
We were soulmates.
I opened my eyes and saw her smiling at me, her eyes filled with love and pride.
We were two halves of a whole.
We were meant to be together.
“Thanks,” I said, returning her smile.
I couldn’t imagine living in a world where I had never met Scarlett.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Where we hadn’t fallen in love with each other at first sight.
She chuckled and shook her head.
Where our love wasn’t forever.
“You’d be just fine,” she said, “but I’m not going anywhere.”
I reached out and took her other hand in mine and squeezed them both tight.
Our love wasn’t just forever; it was eternal.
It wasn’t just eternal; it was pre-eternal.
“Promise?”
“Promise,” she said, and I felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders as she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
It had existed before the beginning of time and would continue on long after the end of time.
Our love was so intense that even now—when we weren’t even in the same room—it felt like I could reach out and touch it.
“I love you, Mason,” she said, her voice gentle and soft and warm.
It felt like nothing could ever come between us or tear us apart.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing the feeling of Scarlett’s hand in mine to last forever, even though I knew it was impossible.
“Mason?” the girl sitting at the table next to me said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Are you okay?”
I opened my eyes and saw her looking at me with a worried expression on her face.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said with a forced smile.
“I was just thinking about…”
I glanced over at the empty chair across from me, but instead of seeing an empty chair, I saw Scarlett sitting there, smiling back at me with eyes that held entire galaxies within them.
I saw the way her dark hair fell in perfect ringlets around her face, the way her lips curved up at the corners when she smiled, the way her cheeks flushed the color of a rose when she was embarrassed or excited or happy, which was pretty much all the time when we were together.